Life Is Too Short
by The Madhatter2
Summary: Takes place during Mirage, the heartbreaking scene between Jack and Sydney, where Syd impersonates her mother. Syd's POV. Syd comes to conclusions about her parents.


LIFE IS TOO SHORT

By The Madhatter

Rating: G/K

Spoilers: 4x18 Mirage

Pairings: Spyfam… mainly Jack/Syd… with a splash of Irina, for good measure. :D

Disclaimer: These characters all belong to JJ Abrams, etc, etc, etc. After I'm done emotionally abusing them, I'll put them back to their rightful state and with their rightful owner… which, unfortunately, is not me. Ya know… I wouldn't mind having a creative and inventive mind such as him though… :P

Summary: Takes place during the heartbreaking scene where Sydney has to impersonate her mother in order to get Jack to reveal the location of Dr. Liddell. During this scene, Sydney finds out truths about her parents… and that some things never change.

A/N: Two songs have inspired me throughout this fic: "Because You Live" by Jesse McCartney and "Beautiful Disaster" by Kelly Clarkson. Somehow, they're both fitting in odd ways. I strongly recommend listening to these songs or at least looking at the lyrics. I hope you guys enjoy this!

A/N Part II: Yeah, sorry to take up your time (not like anyone actually reads the author's note), but this is definitely longer than I anticipated. Please don't kill me.

* * *

"_You want me to be my mother."_

I can't be her. I don't know how to be her. How can I be someone I'm not?

"_Syd, it's just a job. It's another alias, like all the others."_

No, Vaughn, it's more than that. This is my _mother._ The woman who gave birth to me. The woman who betrayed me. The woman who shot me. She lied to me. Those memories… are all lies. I can't do this. I don't know how.

I try to take deep breaths as I see the med staff wheel my father in. I don't think I can do this. This is the one alias I can't be. This is where I cross the line.

I try to focus as Sloane tells me what to expect. I can't.

"_Your mother used to call your father 'sweetheart.' It was a pet name for him."_

Oh, great, a pet name. I can't do this. It's too much. I can't be my mother. I can't manipulate my father like this. I can't!

But I need to in order for him to live.

That's what I keep telling myself.

"_Sydney, go ahead."_

I take a deep breath as I gather the paper bag full of groceries in my arm and close the door. Here goes nothing. Forgive me, Dad.

"_Jack?"_

I've been many people. Out of all the aliases I've been, this has got to be the hardest one. This even beats out all the near fatal accidents and incidents that has happened in my career.

I am Laura Bristow. I am Laura Bristow. I am Laura Bristow.

Suddenly, the thought strikes me. This is exactly how my mother must have felt.

"_Oh good, you're home."_

"_Sydney."_

My heart freezes. I think I'm dead. He knows. But this is my father, I'm safe. Except for the fact that he can't know that it really is me.

I am Laura Bristow.

Part of me wants to abandon this charade and run to him, just to wrap my arms around him and cure him. That same part wants to apologize for even thinking of going through with this. The rational spy in me counters that. I need to go through with this mission or my father dies. I need to find Liddell. I need to complete this – no matter the cost. No matter the method.

Naturally, that's the side that wins.

"_She's upstairs, isn't she?"_

Dad, as much as I hate myself for doing this, please fall for it. Come on, Dad, you can do it…

"_Would you give me a hand with these? Sweetheart, is something wrong? Arvin called. He and Emily want to have dinner next Saturday. I told him we'd love to."_

"_You could've just said we're busy. I know how you put up with Arvin for my sake."_

Yes! He bought it! As delighted as I am that he bought the lie, I am equally disgusted at the fact that I even feel remotely overjoyed at the fact that I'm completely manipulating my father into thinking that he's living back with my mother.

How did my mother do this? How could she live with this feeling of disgust? I feel so… vulgar.

But this is for him. All for him. All for a cure.

"_How can you be so perfect? A loving mother, beautiful wife… just by standing there?"_

I want to cry. Who would have thought that my father, Jack Bristow, could be such a loving and charming man? The line seems a little cheesy, but coming from my father… it sounds perfect. Being a woman, I can see why any woman would fall for him. Being a daughter, my heart breaks a little more. I'm overwhelmed with a love so real, so deep for this man that I can't begin to understand where it's coming from.

Which begs the question: Did my mother truly love him?

I lock that question away to be analyzed at another time. I lean out the kitchen to listen in on his conversation, hoping that he would reveal Liddell's location so we can get this ridiculous situation over with. I hate using my father like this.

I'm almost frustrated at the fact that he didn't reveal the location over the phone. Of course, the rational side of me takes over once again, reminding me that he would never do that. He's too good for that. Jack Bristow is not a rookie agent.

"_It was Grady. Who else would it be this early on a Sunday? He has a mission for me. I'm afraid I have to leave town… There's a doctor whose research has put his life in danger. I need to make him disappear. New name, new identity, new life. Low risk, I promise."_

"_Where will you take him?"_

"_Finland."_

I hold back the sigh of relief that's desperate to come out. He finally revealed the location. Now I can breathe again.

But wait. He told Mom that he was a spy. She knew all along that he was working for the CIA. She _knew_. That's how she stole secrets from him. Well, I suppose it's not exactly stealing when he's telling her everything. The fact remains though, he broke protocol.

I don't know whether to be shocked at this revelation, or shocked at his stupidity.

Then again, who am I to talk? I made the same mistake with Danny. Like father, like daughter.

"_What concerns me, I won't be back until next week. I'll miss Sydney's birthday… again."_

"_That's okay… You'll explain it to her, she'll understand."_

"_She's a child! She shouldn't need to understand her father isn't home to celebrate her birthday. Laura, the only memories I have of my father are of him leaving. I don't want it to be that way for her. She deserves better."_

"_The work you do is important."_

"_Not as important as her… or you. When I get back from Europe, I'm going to talk to my supervisors."_

"_What about?"_

"_I'm giving notice. I'm sorry, I should've discussed this with you before I made a decision."_

"_No, that means more to me than you'll ever know."_

And my heart breaks all over again. I am a bundle of emotions. I can only stare at him with tears in my eyes as he takes my hand in his and kisses it gently, as if I might break from the touch. Why don't I remember this man?

Suddenly, it hits me. He's wearing a wedding ring. I look at my own hand and see a gold wedding band around my finger as well. A symbol of never-ending and undying love. How could all that love and happiness end so abruptly?

I blink away more tears from falling, overwhelmed with love again. I'm finally seeing a glimpse of the man he used to be. He loved me enough to quit his job. He was willing to risk everything just to spend more time with his family. Just like he risked his life for me.

And I love him even more for it.

I watch as he sits down with the younger version of me and play the piano. It's such an adorable scene. Love washes over me again. In that instant, I know for a fact that my mother loved my father. There is not a single doubt in my mind. Just being with him for five minutes is enough to assure me of that -- imagine ten years. It's impossible.

The look of pure happiness on his face warms my heart and brings back a batch of fresh tears to my eyes. This Jack Bristow smiles much more and it suits him very well. He looks years younger, almost to the point of his 31 year old self in this memory.

The look of horror and betrayal in his eyes when the medical team sedates him brings a different set of tears to my eyes – guilt. I try rapidly blinking them away as I turn away. I can't look at him. It's too much.

When I'm sure that the team has wheeled him away, I turn back to the piano and look at the pictures set on top of it. I smile as I glanced at each framed photograph, forever encasing good memories of this household. I feel a slight tug on my sleeve and look down at the little girl. She really does look like me.

"Yes?"

"Um, what do I do now?"

I smile down at her. "See that man over there? He'll lead you back to where your mom is, okay? You did a wonderful job, sweetie."

"Thanks! So, that man that played the piano with me was your dad, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"He's really nice. I like him a whole lot. You're lucky."

"Why do you say that?"

"My daddy died a year ago. He was kinda like your dad. At least he's still with you…"

I kneel down and hug the little girl on impulse. She's so small, yet she's already suffered so much. "How old are you, sweetie?"

"Six."

That's the same age I lost my mother… "You know what? I'm pretty sure your dad loved you just as much as mine loves me. He'll always be with you, right there." I poked her right where her heart was. "No matter where you are or what happens, he'll always be with you. Never forget that."

The little girl sniffed and nodded her head. "Thanks. I won't. I guess I better get back to my mom, huh?" Then, she took off with another agent.

I watch to make sure she meets the right agent before turning my attention back to the pictures on the piano. Briefly, I wonder where all these pictures came from. All of mine were burned in the house fire, unless… No, my father would never keep these. It's too painful. Maybe Sloane? He's obsessed enough with my family to have a few. Bastard.

I shove those thoughts aside as I focus on a particular brunette kid, smiling a gap toothed smile from a missing tooth, perched on top of her father's broad shoulders, whose smile is as equally big. Tears spring to my eyes for about the thousandth time today as I cradle the frame in my hands.

"_I remember looking up at him, thinking he was the strongest man in the world."_

Not even the strongest man in the world is invincible. My father is dying. Out of all the things we've both experienced in our lives, he's dying from overexposure to radiation. Despite the fact that we now have the location for Dr. Liddell, I fear that my father might be too far gone. I try to picture a world without Jack Bristow in it.

I can't.

I guess, not everything in this life is meant to last. Life is too short. That simple statement has never been so accurate. Despite all the failings and shortcomings of my dad, I can't fathom a life without him. True, he's never been in the forefront of my life, but he's been lurking in the shadows, protecting me from the evils of this world. Just knowing he has always been there – will always be there – comforts me. He _needs_ to recover. I can't survive without him.

Drops of water splash onto the glass covering of the picture frame. The tears I've been holding at bay finally escape, flowing freely down my face. I don't even try to wipe them away, knowing it would be in vain. I take the sleeve of my blouse and wipe the tears away from the frame, exposing the brightness of our smiles even more. How long has it been since he's smiled like that?

I place the frame back with a painful smile forcing its way onto my face. All these emotions colliding at once are too much for me to handle. I wanna grab my dad and just choke him for making me worry like this! I wanna cry like I've never cried in my life. I wanna kill Sloane for making me play my mother… I wanna hug my dad and tell him how much I love him… We're taught to compartmentalize our feelings and emotions in this business, but my will isn't strong enough. To hell with it! This is _my father._ My _dying_ father. I'm allowed to cry.

I feel a comforting hand on my shoulder – and for a split second I imagine my father standing before me, bearing one of those bright smiles – when it's only Vaughn staring down at me, concerned.

"I'm fine," I reply to his unanswered question. "Just… fine."

He grins slightly as he pulls me into his arms. "You know what that means, right? Freaked out, Insecure –"

" – Neurotic and Emotional." I finish, smiling slightly. "_Italian Job_."

He pulls back slightly and tilts my chin up. "How are you really feeling?"

Like I could fall apart any second. My father is slowly dying, what the hell am I supposed to feel? I'd love to scream all this at him, but he doesn't deserve that. Instead, I sigh and shake my head. "I'll be much better when we get Liddell over here and cures my dad."

"Marshall's working on finding him as we speak. I just came to see how you were doing."

"Vaughn… thanks." I smile, trying to convey my gratitude in words I can't say.

He nods in understanding and takes a look at the pictures I was crying over about. I watch as he picks up a family portrait. "You guys look happy." I could hear the pain and wistfulness in his voice.

I take the picture from him and smile softly. "We were. Those were some of the best memories of my life." Especially since I know the truth about my mother's love. Even if everything was based off of a lie initially, one thing remained true – Irina Derevko loved both her husband and daughter.

"She loved us, Vaughn. I know it. My mother loved the both of us." As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I regret it. How could I be so heartless? "I'm so sorry, Vaughn, I wasn't –"

"Don't worry about it, Syd." He tries to smile at me. "It's okay. I'm glad." As if on cue for the perfect interruption, his phone rings. "Yeah. Thanks, Marshall." He snaps his phone shut and smiles again. "They found Liddell. He's in Helsinki."

"Then, let's go."

I tighten my coat a little more as I scan the area for someone who looks like the picture I memorized on the flight. Shoving my hands deeper into my pockets, I briskly walk toward an older man with wispy gray hair, reading a newspaper.

"Dr. Liddell," I call out, then watch in horror as this man picks up his briefcase and tries to walk away. Oh, no you don't. Don't make me take you by force. "Jack Bristow needs your help."

He turns around, pulling off his reading glasses. "I don't know who you're talking about. You have the wrong man, please leave me alone."

I grab his elbow before he can escape. "Please. Wait. You have to help him. He's dying. You're the only one who can save him. Please, Doctor, you have to save my father."

I see confusion written all over his face. "You're… his daughter?" I nod emphatically. I'm finally getting somewhere. "No… no, this is all a trap. I'm sorry."

"No! Wait!" I pull out my CIA issue ID and flip it open for him. "Look, I'm CIA too. I know what he did for you. Please, help my father. He… doesn't have much longer."

He nods. I sigh in relief. "Please come with me, I'll explain everything on the plane."

"What's wrong with him? What happened?" He asks, once we're safely aboard the plane waiting to take us back to LA.

"He was overexposed to radiation."

"How did he do that?"

I duck my head and say quietly, "He was trying to save me."

"I see… well, your father is a good man. I wouldn't past him to save his daughter, even if meant dying in the process. I remember him mentioning you… something about a birthday?"

"Yeah. He missed my birthday that year…"

"I'm so sorry. If I had known…"

"It was a long time ago, don't worry about it. Just… just help him."

"I'll do my best."

As soon as we land, I rush him off to APO's infirmary, trying to get past Sloane as quickly as possible. When we get to Dad's room, I can't help but feel relieved at how peaceful he looks and that the machines around him are beeping steadily.

I place one hand on top of his and squeeze gently. "Dad? Someone's here to see you."

He blinks a few times and then stares up at Dr. Liddell. "Am I cured?"

"Not yet, but I'm going to make you better." Then, he turns to me. "If he's as delusional as you say he is, then we need to get started as soon as possible."

"Whatever you need."

As Liddell takes Dad away, I sit down on one of the white plastic chairs and breathe out a sigh of relief. Dad's going to be fine. Dad's going to be healthy. Next thing you know, he'll be back to glaring at everyone that gets in his way. Or glaring at the doctors and nurses that attend to him. I smother a smile at that thought. Those poor people.

Soon, sitting down is a challenge for me and I try pacing, but that gets old too. I walk back to my desk, hoping to find something to work on -- some op report, or mission briefing -- anything to get time moving faster. Nothing. I have nothing to work on. I can't believe it.

The minutes and hours tick by as I try to help Nadia and Weiss out with their situation about the Hydrosek. I immerse myself in so deep, I'm startled to hear my phone chirp and Liddell saying that Dad's awake. I smile and take off toward his room.

"Dad!" I nearly shout, bursting into his room. I quickly go to his side and grasp one of his hands. "How are you?"

He smiles. "I'm fine, sweetheart." My heart melts at the endearment. "Thank you."

I smile as tears roll down my face. He's here, he's alive and breathing, he's looking at me with those beautiful brown eyes that could melt a woman. And I couldn't be happier. Or grateful.

He brushes his thumb against my cheek to wipe away my tears and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. Then, surprisingly, he grins. "Didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?"

I laugh despite myself. "No. You're too tough, Dad. And I'm glad."

"When can I get out of here?"

Oh, Dad. I smile and shake my head. "Dr. Liddell says at least another day. You've gotta take it easy."

He sends the familiar Bristow glare towards me. "I have work to do."

"Yes, I know. You have to work on getting better. If you don't, you won't be placed back on active duty. Doctor's orders."

"I suspect you have something to do with it, too?"

"Where would you get an idea like that?" I say with an innocent smile. He glares at me again. "You should get some rest. I'll drop by tomorrow morning to check up on you."

I lean over and kiss him on the forehead. Just as I'm about to get up, he grabs my hand and looks at me like he has something to say. I look back into his eyes and, amazingly enough, can see right through him. The words on the tip of his tongue – I love you – are there, but he only says, "Thank you, sweetheart."

I smile back at him and squeeze his hand. "You're welcome." I love you, too, Dad.


End file.
